The Magic Shop of Unknown Treasures

Yesterday was the third time I had gone to the artisan shop for name chops. I want one with my new name and another for a friend. It's magic because I don't really know how to get there. The last times I have gone, I've gotten on the 17 bus to the old city. I don't know where to get off the bus, but I have a receipt with the address stamped on it in Chinese. I get off the bus when I think things look familiar, then I ask someone to point me toward the address on the receipt. Luckily, I've always gotten off the bus really close to the correct street, and I've always been headed in the right direction before asking for help.

Yesterday when I got to the shop, it was closed. I stood in front, trying to use my cell to call someone who might be able to help. The shop owner rode up on his motorcycle just then. I spent a few minutes looking at the chop stones. The one I chose is a multicolored marbled stone with a carving of a lily pad and fish. I picked out the carving style, and then I was invited for Kongfu tea before leaving, as is the Chaoshan hospitable custom. I have ordered 7 chops all together, which probably makes me a good chop customer.

I used my limited ability in Chinese (Putonghua) to have chit-chat, over about 6-7 shots of Kongfu tea with the owner and his friend. They offered me cigarettes. They asked about where I was from, what I did, how much money I made, all polite conversation topics in China. Of course, I rounded my salary down to the nearest 3-thousands. He asked if I took the chops back to America. I said that the five chops he had carved were already in America, sent to my parents and friends. He seemed a bit emotional thinking of the idea that his work had traveled so far.

I asked which bus to take to get to Walmart from that part of the city. The owner and his friends decided it was the #24. As I got up to leave, the owner asked me to have one more cup of tea, and said he would take me to the stop because he didn't know for sure which bus it was. So I rode for 1.5 blocks on the back of his motorcycle, which was less horrifying than I had imagined. The bus I needed was #12. I didn't have change. I said maybe I could buy a bottle of water. He told me to stay there, he took my ten, and he came back with a bottle of water and change.

I made it to Walmart and graded at the Bread Diary. It was a successful day.

-吴佩芙